


Nightmares

by papercloudx



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:57:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7386181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papercloudx/pseuds/papercloudx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You woke up abruptly. It took you a second to fully wake up—darkness surrounded you, and the only sounds you could hear were Sam’s painful pants and occasional mumbling of words you couldn’t make out under his breath.</p><p>Sam. Painful pants. Mumbling. Oh shit, another nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from Tumblr--I actually forgot to post this here before sooo here you go! :)

You put your hand on Sam’s shoulder, gently trying to wake him up. His time in prison had scarred him more than he would ever admit; you supposed not even Nathan knew the full extent of Sam’s trauma.

“Sam. Sam, it’s alright. I’m here. Wake up. It’s just a dream.”

You whispered the same words over and over again, until Sam opened his eyes. He stared at you in bewilderment, obviously not yet fully awake himself, and backed away as far as the bed would allow without him falling out.

“Don’t. Don’t hit me. I didn’t do anything, I swear! I swear…” Sam turned around and hid his face in his pillow as quiet sobs rocked his body. It broke your heart every time you saw him like this.

You removed your hand from his shoulder, as every touch would only disturb Sam more when he just woke up from one of his nightmares. As much as it pained you, you would have to wait until he was somewhat conscious again before you could hold him in your arms.

“Sam. Sammy darling. It’s me. You’re not in Panama anymore. We’re at Nate’s and Elena’s. For Cassie’s birthday. Do you remember?”

Sam continued to shiver, but you could see him relax a bit, his breathing slowing down. “I’m not… I’m not in jail?”

“You’re not, love. Look, you’re lying on a real bed. Can you still smell the weird incense stick Elena used yesterday? I have no idea why she likes them so much…” Making Sam aware of his surroundings usually helped to make him wake up fully, and it seemed to do the trick this time as well. Sam fumbled for the switch of the bedside lamp in the dark and found it after a few seconds. In the dim light, you could see sweat glistening on his neck and bare back.

Sam turned around to face you, fixating your eyes with his and stroking your cheek.

“You’re real. I’m not just dreaming this, right? I won’t wake up in jail again?”

“No. You’re stuck with me for good now, Samuel,” you said, smiling. You finally allowed yourself to hug Sam, to hold him in your arms, gently rocking back and forth. You trailed little kisses down his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, not caring for the salty taste of his sweat. “We’re both here, and I won’t let anything happen to you again,” you whispered again, hoping that the sound of your voice would relax Sam a little more.

Sam held onto you as if his life depended on it. He still shivered, and you could feel that he was struggling with keeping his breathing calm and steady. “It felt so real. Why does it still feel so real? Why do I have to revisit that place every night?”

“I don’t know, Sam… I don’t know. I wish I could make it go away.”

Sam didn’t respond. Even when he eventually stopped shivering, he was still tense, and his fingernails dug into your arm just enough to hurt. You knew he didn’t do it on purpose; that in this very moment, he needed all the stimuli he could experience to keep himself grounded in the real world, to make sure he would not slip back into those horrible memories. Still… it hurt.

“Hey love. Look at me. We’re going to breathe together now, okay? Remember? Six in, hold for six, eight out. One… two…” Sam had once confessed that having you count out loud for him helped him to concentrate on his breathing. It had been one of the few moments when he felt vulnerable enough to ask for your help with his nightmares, and you made sure to repeat the breathing exercise whenever he needed it.

As you went over the exercise again and again, you could feel Sam’s breathing deepen, and his features relaxed visibly. Eventually, he gave you a small nod to signal that he felt okay again. Stable. Back in the real world.

“I’m sorry for always waking you up—“

“Don’t. Don’t be sorry, Sam. I’m glad you’re sharing these moments with me… I’m glad you don’t have to go through them alone anymore.” You smiled at him. “Hey, want me to sing you a lullaby?”

The question had the desired effect and Sam had to chuckle. Even if it was just a quiet and weak chuckle, it meant he felt better, and that was all the reassurance you needed.

“I’m not a baby, sweetheart. I can take care of my own.”

“I know you can. But maybe I _like_ singing for you?”

Sam sighed dramatically, turning around again. “If you insist. But I want to be the little spoon then. It’s all or nothing!”

You kissed Sam on the neck and pulled him close to you as you started to sing one of his favourite 80s-rock ballads. You had given up trying to talk to Sam about his nightmares, or even trying to make him consider therapy—as soon as he was out of his vulnerable, still dream-like state, Samuel would refuse to talk about his time in jail, or even about the nightmares that still haunted him. He would put up his strong act again and defect any questions with jokes…

Only when you felt Sam go still in your arms, his breathing even and all the tension leaving his body—a clear sign that he fell asleep again—did you stop singing. You sighed quietly, wishing that Sam would let you do more for him than just holding him at night.

You snuggled close to him, barely able to keep yourself awake anymore. This was a conversation for another day… maybe you would try to talk to him again tomorrow. He would have to listen to you at some point.


End file.
